


Grounded

by Army C (arh581958)



Series: Comfort [5]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Gratuitous porn, I just really want Ian sucking on Mickey's nipples, I promise, If Ian likes sucking on Mickey's nipples then Mickey likes getting fingered, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Sex Toys, Smut, Vibrators, anal penetration, its not too kinky, there I go making it sound kinky again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 03:22:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7828546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arh581958/pseuds/Army%20C
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They both need this—the endless feedback loop of pleasure, a connection that neither of them are willing to let go. They hang onto it for dear life in their own ways. Somewhere along the way, Mickey finds Ian’s free hand, sticky with fluids but he winds their fingers together nonetheless. His other hand brushes back Ian’s messing hair, holding the redhead to his chest. </p><p>(Or: In which, Ian and Mickey find comfort in each other.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grounded

**Author's Note:**

> Gratuitous porn while taking a break from thinking about my Thesis. This was _supposed to be_ manic!hypersexual!Ian + multple-orgasm!Mickey but it ended up being so emotionally charged that I think it reflected by state of mind. I don't really care if it might have been done before, I just needed to write it. This is an attempt to mix the intimacy from the previous stories with a bout of emotion-driven sex. I hope you liked it.
> 
> **Not Beta Read. Open for Volunteers.**

Mickey’s naked, on the bed, with his feet in the air. There’s a pillow squished under his hips while Ian keeps his legs up. It’s a strenuous position, one that he doesn’t employ often but Ian asked for it tonight. God knows that he’ll do anything for his Gallagher—even _this_.  

This is something that Mickey Milkovich resolutely _does not do_ unless completely necessary.

There’s a toy buzzing inside his ass. His stomach is a mess of cum and sweat for multiple orgasms. He thinks he’s got nothing left in his balls for tonight, but it doesn’t seem like Ian’s slowing down anytime soon.

“Mickey,” Ian says his name so lovingly that he’s afraid that Mickey will break. Mickey knows that it isn’t what Gallagher needs tonight, so he squirms under the penetrating gaze and forces his legs higher, exposing his most intimate part. Ian’s cum and lube and the toy squelch on the inside, and make obscene noises in the otherwise quiet room.

“God, _Mickey_ ,” comes the breathless voice, as hands skim over his cheeks, making him shudder down to his toes.

“What are you fucking waiting for, Gallagher? An invitation?!” He hisses out, trying to hide his embarrassment. He lifted his head, ready to mouth off again about slow-ass gingers, but Ian’s gaze stops the words in his throat. It’s piercing, intense, and dark. Mickey’s caught by it. He’s suddenly unsure. “I—Ian?”

“Shhh,” Ian coos, skimming a hand down Mickey’s side, passed the curve of his hips, then underneath his ass. Finger so deftly between the cheeks. “So fucking _beautiful_ for me, Mick, just for me.” He traces his middle finger over the tightly coiled furl, then—ever so slowly—pushes the tip of his dry finger just to see the older man squirm. It makes the gooey slop trail down the Mickey’s crack.

Ian gently wraps his fingers on Mickey’s face. “I’ll take care of you, Mick, I promise. Just… just let me, a’right?”

Mickey nods cause it’s the only thing he can do.

Ian’s smile is blinding when he gives it to Mickey straight-on—eons away from the awkward wimpy thirteen-year-old when they first met but there’s still traces of that shy-boyishness. He holds a different aura around him now, not really confidence but a sense of security.

Mickey can’t help but feel at awe that Ian’s still here with him.

“Spread your legs,” Ian whispers, and Mickey’s obedience feels second-nature. The older man spreads his legs until his hamstrings complain but the appreciative look he gets in return makes the twinge worth it. Precum trickles out of his cock while he watches Ian coat his long thin fingers with lube. “Ready, Mick?”

“Yeah, Firecrotch, before I turn fifty!”

Ian laughs. At the same time, he slides his whole finger inside. “I think you’ll still be gorgeous at fifty.”

“Jesus, fuck!” Mickey can’t rebuff the compliment when he has stars swimming in his eyes. Ian’s finger slide inside, pushing the vibe deeper, rubbing it against Mickey’s over-sensitive prostrate. The strokes are practiced and deliberate, and designed to make Mickey insane. He’ll never admit that he likes to _feel_ it and remember everything Ian’s done to him the next day. As it is, he huffs out when Ian adds another finger.

“The—there! Jesus, Ian, there, rig—fuck, there!”

Ian stops. He holds his head at level with Mickey’s face, fingers still inside Mickey’s ass, with a serious expression. Mickey just stares back. Ian glances down past Mickey’s neck, and it only takes a second for the pieces to flick in. A while rips out of Mickey’s throat, cock bobbing against his stomach, angry and purpling.

“Can I suck you?” Ian huffs against his skin. It’s a stupid fucking question in Mickey’s opinion.

“Wa—what the fuck you askin’ me for? Ya know I like getting’ my cock sucked.”

Mickey blushes red. It’s not the first time they’ve done this. He doesn’t understand why Ian’s asking now when he’s never asked before, but he finds himself nodding as an answer. “Yea, yea, a’right.”

Just like that, Ian’s touch changed into something more determined. His free hand traces up Mickey’s torso like he’s touching it for the very first time, every inch of skin, every scar, _everything_. He set his sight on something in particular—on the dark brown pair of nipples in sharp contrast to Mickey’s white skin.

“Shit, fuck, Gallagher!” Mickey’s legs fall to the bed unceremoniously as he surges forward to meet Ian’s mouth half-way. Lips connect to skin, around the stiff mound, and _tugging_. It feels like a straight link to his cock with the way precum dribbles out uncontrollably.

Ian’s relentless in his torture. “Let me,” he begs against Mickey’s right nipple before he moves to the left, “Mickey, just let me have this.” He says, pulling his fingers free from Mickey’s body to swipe at the other nipple.

Mickey understands. Ian doesn’t always get like this, but when he does Mickey isn’t one to deny him anything. Mickey opens himself. His hands weave into Ian’s hair. He hefts his legs around Ian’s waist again, locking his ankles, so he can grind against Ian’s toned stomach while Ian’s long monstrous cock teases at his whole. The triple sensations make his eyes roll back.

“A’right,” he says, arching his back, “Have att’em, Firecrotch, do you worse. I can take you.” It’s meant to be comforting but Ian takes it as a challenge. He plants his knees to the bed to meet each of Mickey, thrust per thrust, making the short man’s toes curl.

It’s hot and heavy; it’s sex, but at the same time, it’s more than just sex.

Ian laves at his nipples like he’s a boy starved—starved of affection, maybe. Who could blame him when he’s the bastard middle child of a family with six kids, absent bipolar mother, and drunkard uncle-dad. Having time to grow up wasn’t a big priority for him when there’s three more younger kids to feed. He never really had time for affection.

Mickey knows all this by heart, witnessed it happening, watching from the sidelines. He knows that sometimes Ian will need _this_ —the type of surrender that he isn’t always too comfortable to give, but he’ll give it to Ian if it’s the last damn thing he does in this planet.

“That’s it, Gallagher—Ian, that’s it.” He’s not usually one for small talk while they fuck but his gut tells him that Ian needs to hear him, to know it’s _Mickey Milkovich_ underneath the pliant exterior, that he’s _here_ for him.  He talks even if he’s red in the face from embarrassment. “Just suck it baby, you’re doing so good.”

“Mickey, Mickey, Mickey,” Ian chants in repeat.

Nails dig into Mickey’s sides. He hisses at the jolt of pain that couples with his stinging nipples. Not one to complain, he bites his lip and thrust more aggressively into Ian’s stomach. It drives him wild. Ian drives him wild, playing his body like an instrument. It’s all so much and yet he simultaneously wants so much more.

Where he’d normally say “Come, on, get on me, Firecrotch” like a demand, tonight he tells Ian “Inside, Ian, I need you, please.”

Ian smiles against his nipple. He moves up, kissing a path up Mickey’s sternum, burying his face under Mickey’s jaw until their lips meet again. “Sorry, what was that, Mick?”

“You teasing son of a bitch,” Mickey growls, pulling the ginger forward and crashing their lips together. He bends himself in half with how he’s curled into Ian’s body. It’ll give him hell after but he loses all focus at the moment. “Fuck me,” he demands, pushing his ass back against Ian’s cock, which slips up and down the crack because it lacks aim.

Frustrated, Mickey reaches down and pushes it passed his rim, vibe or not vibe. They both hiss at the head pops in.

“Mickey, what the fuck! The vibe!” Ian’s eyes grow wide, frantic even. He attempts to pull back out but Mickey’s legs keep him in place.

“S’aright,” Mickey hisses with a groan, panting, “There’s a string, right? _Right_?”

“Yeah, but…” Ian’s complaints are cut-off when Mickey clenches his ass.

“Fuck me… ‘til I’m sloppy, Firecrotch, … and … and it’ll fall right out.” Mickey says in-between breaths. He’s so freaking sensitive, and he knows Ian must be too. With Gallagher’s gigantic nine-inch cock nailing his prostrate with the vibrator right at the very tip, he knows that this can’t last much longer.

Ian falls atop Mickey. “Mickey, fuck,” he gasps into Mickey’s neck, hips erratic with their movements, “I can—I can feel it— _fuck_ —on my cock.”

Mickey holds Ian by the hips using his legs. He closes his eyes and lets himself feel it—the fullness of Ian’s girth stretching him while the toy buzzes consistently against his walls. Parts of his channel are numb from the constant teasing but the cock is different. It’s full in ways that he’s always wants to feel when he’s with Ian.

His hands are gentle when he pulls Ian away from his neck. Wordlessly, he offers his puffy red nipples for Ian to take again. “It s’aright,” he says, urging Ian to suckle because deep-down he wants it too. He wants the full loop, the 360-connection. “Like’em real good.”

It’s an explosion of fireworks when Ian takes the nipple into his mouth again, using his free hand to jerk Mickey’s swollen cock.

Mickey arches off the bed, overwhelmed by all the sensations—the lips on his nipple, the hand on his cock, the cock in his ass, the feeling of Ian everywhere—around, over, and surrounding him. He loves it—love all of it, just like he loves the person above him for as long as he can remember.

They both need this—the endless feedback loop of pleasure, a connection that neither of them are willing to let go. They hang onto it for dear life in their own ways. Ian takes Mickey’s nipples into his mouth with every intention of taking Mickey’s offered. Mickey takes Ian’s cock like an anchor of his tremulous life.

Somewhere along the way, Mickey finds Ian’s free hand, sticky with fluids but he winds their fingers together nonetheless. His other hand brushes back Ian’s messing hair, holding the redhead to his chest. When they come, Ian pulses inside Mickey while Mickey comes dry, hands held together.

Everything floats away but they still have _this_ between them now—love, intimacy, and comfort— just two people in love.

**Author's Note:**

> In other news, I'm still not finished with my outline for the multi-chapter Gallavich story that I'm working on. It's going to be a very long ride ahead. Expect a lot of one-shots to fill the in-between while I'm in the planning process of it. There's an ABO story from Gallavich week that I also want to continue. So, I'm not sure which one I'm going first. :D
> 
> If you have a prompt or an idea, you can [INSPIRE ME](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/submit) on tumblr. Or [TALK TO ME](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/ask)~
> 
> As always, **kudos/comments/bookmarks** are all appreciated by this author. I take comments as extra-kudos and I _do_ read the bookmark tags (some are really fun).


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